


Sunrise

by Yaomi



Series: Sunset [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-14
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 22:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaomi/pseuds/Yaomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Sunset done in vignettes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: character owned by JK Rowling
> 
> This is the sequel to Sunset. Percy and Oliver will be appearing later. This will be done in scenes, some of them Lee and George, others Percy and Oliver.
> 
> I promise Fear will be updated. Unfortunately it appears I can write every part of that story except for chapter two. I have nearly everything else in it completed, but that one part is seriously giving me problems. I don’t know why, but Percy is getting finicky with it.

Wanted:  
New roommate  
Two bedroom, two bath, study/office area, fourth floor, balcony  
Beautiful view of the river  
Near the train station  
$600 plus a share of the utilities  
Please call (xxx) xxx-xxxx

He had the newspaper rolled up in his hand with the circled phone number hanging loosly from his hand as he sat on the steps. His other hand supported his head by the chin, holding itself upon his knee. The newspaper was tapping out a rhythm into the air to a tune only he could hear.

He was waiting.

He had been waiting for over an hour now, but the owner of the apartment had called him in a frantic plea to wait as he had been held up at work. He had still considered leaving, but the view was nice just as the paper had promised. The sun was setting on the river below and it almost appeared to sparkle in his eyes. The street was relatively quiet. Not very many cars drove by, this street being out of the way of the main roads just enough to escape notice. Most of the traffic came from people walking from who knew to wherever, and they blended into the scenery as if he were staring out at a painting.

It wasn't the kind of place he was accustomed to, but it was nice. And there was something about it that called to him, that made him feel as if this was where he needed to be. The little boy at his side snuggled into him, his little fingers curling into his jacket. His hand absently reached out to run his hand down the boy's shoulder to his back, stopping to feel the breath enter and exit from the little body. He had wanted an apartment for him and his son, but trying to run his own store didn't always bring in the best of money, especially since he had his brother's habit of giving away the merchandise for free to people who appeared to have a true need or appreciation for the item. He needed a roommate, and the owner had promised that they could turn the study into a bedroom for his son if they wanted to. He wasn't sure if he would.

He heard the steps before he saw the man. They came thumping up the stairs, almost like they were running, and then the man came into view. The first thing he noticed were the dreadlocks twisting about the man's head before those eyes came up and the man stopped as though he was surprised. They studied each other for a minute, an expression he didn't understand flitting across the man's face before he smiled.

"You must be George?" the man asked.

George grinned at him, nudging his son a little to wake him up. The boy squinched his eyes before blinking them open with a groan, much like his father did in the mornings. "Daddy," the boy complained, holding on tighter to his jacket.

"We have company, little man," George said, helping the boy up before raising himself.

The owner came further up the stairs. "George Weasley," he said, holding out his hand. "It's Lee, right?"

The dreadlocks swayed as Lee nodded his head, reaching out to take a firm grasp of the offered hand. Lee noticed that George's other hand was still on his son's shoulder. Lee bent down a little to be at eye level with the boy. "And what's your name? Little man?"

The boy glared his sleepy brown eyes at him, grabbing hold of George's jacket to use as a shield against this unknown.

"It's Fred," he informed Lee.

Lee nodded sagely. "Fred then." He straightened back up to motion at the door behind them. "Want to check the place out?"

"Of course," George said. He turned around and grabbed Fred by the hand, leading him to stand out of the way of the stairs and away from the door so that Lee could get past them.

Lee unlocked the door to his apartment, opening it and flicking on the light next to the door. “Come on in,” he said, and went further in to turn on the light in the kitchen where he set his bag that smelled like bliss on the table.

They followed him inside, George with a grin on his face and his son a bit more hesitantly being led by the hand. George looked around him, noticing the door to the balcony, which did face out to the river, the hallway that probably led to the bedroom, the fair sized living room, and a smaller room with a glass and wood door at the entrance to the hallway which had to be the study. It was spacious for the price and kept clean and orderly. He turned back to Lee who met his grin with one of his own.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Lee asked him.

“We used to live above my store. Anything is nicer than that,” George replied wryly.

“You own a store?” He began to empty the bags onto the kitchen counters. “Do you want any of this?”

George looked down at Fred. “No, I don’t think we do.”

It was almost comical the way the little boy’s eyes widened in indignation as he turned sharply towards his dad. “But daddy! It’s from that place you like.”

George squinted at the food splayed out like a buffet. “No it isn’t.”

The boy was holding his jacket in both fists now, banging it against George’s leg. “Yes you do! You eat it like everyday.”

George huffed, but his eyes were gleaming. “No I do not.”

“Yes you do.”

“I do not.”

“Daddy~ I’m hungry,” Fred whined.

“Then go ask the nice man if he’ll feed you.”

“He asked us,” he grumbled.

“Well that’s not nice,” George wheedled him, leaning down to poke him in the side.

Fred was scowling at them both now, but he let go of George’s jacket to shuffle over to where Lee was standing with a grin on his face. “It’s not funny,” he snapped at Lee.

“Fred,” George admonished.

“Of course it isn’t,” Lee conceded, but his grin only got wider. “Was there something you needed, little man?”

“Can I have some food?” Fred asked him. Lee winked at him and then turned around to open the cupboard and get out a plate. He opened the drawer just to the right of him to dig for three forks and handed one to Fred.

“Here you are,” he said, and then moved out of the way.

The boy was on the tip of his toes trying to scoop food onto his precariously balanced plate before George took over, grabbing the plate and lifting it. He asked Fred what he wanted and put a portion of everything that the boy pointed to.

“Can I have the cookie too?” Fred asked.

George stepped back, plate in one hand and the other on his hip.

“First you take the man’s food, and now you want his fortune too?” he asked Fred as though he was shocked the boy would even think of a question like that.

“Adults don’t eat cookies, daddy.”

George crouched down, his jaw dropped. “What? I never heard about this.”

“I haven’t heard about it either,” Lee agreed. “I like cookies.”

“So do I. I guess I can’t buy them at the store anymore.”

“Have to resist the temptation.”

Fred’s eyes were at danger level now. George looked over at Lee and tossed the package towards him. George opened it and set it on Fred’s plate. “Go say thank you.”

Fred looked over at Lee. “Thank you, Mr. Lee.”

“You’re welcome.”

George led Fred over to the table, setting the plate down before a chair. He pulled out the chair which Fred climbed into and then pushed it back closer to the table. When he turned around, Lee had another two plates out beside him and was leaning against the counter with his arms folded. The cabinets were a dark wood, counteracted against by a medium colored stone countertop. It really was a nice place.

“You want anything?” Lee asked him.

George shrugged. “Sure.”

“Say thank you, daddy.”

George nudged the chair behind him, his son squawking in surprise. “Thank you, Lee.”

Lee grinned. “You’re welcome.”

A little hand pulled at George’s sleeve before he could walk away and he turned around to see his son holding out a little slip of paper. The cookie was mysteriously missing. “You’re not supposed to eat dessert first!”

“You do,” Fred told him, his words jumbled around the cookie in his mouth.

George rolled his eyes. “Scamp,” he said. He took the fortune from Fred and looked down at it and burst out laughing.

“What is it?” Lee asked, at his side in an instant and peering over his arm.

You will make a new friend today.

Lee was laughing too. They looked up at each other, smiles on their faces from ear to ear, a little piece of paper held between them that would become the turning point in their lives.

“When can we move in?”


End file.
